


Shards of a Broken Future

by icemakestars



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Childhood Friends, Cuddling, Death, Domestic, Drawing, Fluff, Friends to more, I Made Myself Cry, Love Confessions, Lucy is an artist, Multi, Pining, Sad, Sad Porn, Sickness, Suicide, Tearjerker, True Love, it's cute idk, proposing, taking care of a loved one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemakestars/pseuds/icemakestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short drabbles following different pairings, futures and possibilities surrounding the Fairy Tail guild. I'm too lazy to write them all as one shots, so I'm doing this instead. I'll update the tags as I go, just so it's clear what the contents are.</p>
<p>//EDIT//<br/>I have added the ship name and whether they are smut, fluff or angst in the title of each one-shot to make it easer for anyone who wishes to read them!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Erza and Gray (angst and implied smut)

**Author's Note:**

> Gray loves Erza, but she loves someone else.
> 
> (I'm a sucker for Grayza, I'm sorry).

It wasn't that Gray was in love with Erza or anything, because even he knew what a shockingly bad idea that would be. Because he knew that she snook away once a month to visit Jellal, and he witnessed how she would go home and cry afterwards. It pained him to see someone as strong and powerful as her so vulnerable and torn up. He didn't know what happened on each encounter, and he was almost positive he didn't want to know, either. But he couldn't help but notice that, when she returned, her lips were swollen, her cheeks reddened and her clothes ruffled. The only conclusion that Gray could come to made his chest ache, so he ignored it in the hopes that it would all go away.

Needless to say, it never did.

But sometimes, in the guild, there are what Gray considered to be good days. And on these days he will get to see Erza laugh with the other girls in the guild. He gets to speak to her about light-hearted matters and they indulge themselves in nostalgic stories from their past. These days are the ones that Gray looks forward to the most, because he knows that when Erza smiles at him, she's seeing him and nobody else. When she asks for his help or pulls his head against her armour in a hug, she's doing it because he's Gray and she's Erza and they've been friends for more years than either of them would ever bother to count.

It's the bad days that make Gray punch the walls and cry out in frustration. These usually occur after Erza's monthly disappearance. She turns hollow and cold, sits by the window with a drink in one hand and a weapon in the other, twirling it around her armoured hand as she watches the day go by. No matter who asks, Erza won't tell anyone why she acts the way she does. The worst part is that Gray knows why Erza suddenly changes from her normal, bossy, beautiful self to the tense, sorrowful shell that cries silently to herself, but he can't help her. If he asked her about it, he would then have to admit to following her (out of sheer curiosity, of course. Gray was many things, but he wasn't a stalker). This would no doubt upset the red head, and that was something Gray couldn't handle. So he didn't confront Erza, he merely sat and watched. It was a hopeless situation, one which didn't have a black and white solution, and the ice make mage was at a loss. If only he could have Erza constantly feeling as warm as she does on the good days, and eradicate the pain she feels on the bad. 

The first time they kiss, it's a bad day. She was drowning her sorrows in a barrel of sake, ordering one drink after another and trying to just... stop existing. But then she started dancing with Lucy, both girls swaying in time with the music against one another. It was sexy, erotic and far too much for Gray to handle. He was drunk and horny and had waited far too long for his body to control itself, so he went up to her and shamelessly pressed their lips together. For a heart stopping second, the requip mage didn't react. But then Gray could have sworn he heard angels singing because suddenly, she was kissing him back.

That happened more than once, the pair kissing and touching each other in heated moments which were usually fuelled by alcohol and raging emotions. But if they took it one step further and joined together in the most intimate of ways, when she finally reached her peak it was someone else's name which left her lips, not Grays, 

So, Gray most definitely was not in love with Erza, because he knew better than anyone what a bad idea that would be. She was broken, damaged, but didn't want to be repaired. Her heart belonged to another, someone who understood her better than Gray could ever hope to. Even with that knowledge, Gray couldn't bring himself to stop seeing her. It was the way she made him feel; it was intoxicating. He never wanted that feeling so end. It didn't matter that every month she went and slept with another man, or that she pretended she was with someone else when they embraced, because Gray wasn't in love with her. He couldn't be. Because to her, this was nothing. It was how she dealt with the conflicting emotions she felt, and they both knew it. 

Of course Gray wanted more, but how could he ask for something Erza was not ready to give? He let himself be content with their intimate meetings, because it was better than having nothing at all. 

Sometimes after they had finished, Erza would stay for a while. She would be flushed and dazed, and Gray couldn't think of anything more beautiful, but then she would leave and not mention it until the next time they spent the night together. And that was enough for Gray, because it had to be. Because he had no right to ask for more. Because he was completely and obviously in love with Erza Scarlet, and if she was okay with it, then he would be too. 


	2. Erza (angst- suicide)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erza knew she should have died in the Tower of Heaven, now she was merely righting that wrong.

Erza knew she should have died in the Tower of Heaven, now she was merely righting that wrong. It had been eating away at her for so long she wasn't at all sure where the icy tendrils of hate and pain ended and she begun. Honestly, she thought they might now be one in the same.

The pain. The pain of seeing the people she cared about being hurt. The torment of being separated from her family at such a young age, of being beaten, tortured and abused for years. It followed the 15 year old around, lurking in her every thought, ensuring it's venomous shadow was constantly hugging her thoughts, teasing and satirizing her mind until she broke completely.

And that was how Erza Scarlet ended up on the cliff edge.

It wasn't a single event in her life, as such, which had brought her to this, but more everything come together. This was Erza's greatest weakness; her inability to forgive herself for not being strong enough to protect the people she held the dearest, and it was a burden she could no longer handle, was the truth of the matter. But more than that she wanted it all be over, of course she did! There was also a part of her which wanted to experience the icy fear and searing pain. Only then did she feel she was truly repenting for her sins.

With sadness in her tear-swollen eyes, the carmine headed girl turned to face the world behind her. There was so much she would miss, so much she wished she had done before the agony of her past had consumed her, but it was too late for that; her mind was already made. She pictured the look on Mira's face as disappointment and sorrow seeped in, how Natsu would run away to his and Lisanna's private hut and cry, how Gray would punch the wall in utter desperation, just letting out a minor portion of the crumbling sensation inside of him. It was indisputable that Erza would be missed within the guild; she was a Fairy Tail wizard after all, a member of their own messed up family. In honesty, it scared the young mage to be alone in the dark once again, and she wished more than anything that a member of Fairy Tail was here now with her, but she shook the traitorous thoughts from her mind; this was something she had to do alone.

Facing the rippling body of water beneath her once again, Erza took one last, deep breath and exhaled with a sob. Hot tears were still cascading down her face, but they were a product of regret and fear more so than genuine sadness. Leaning forward slightly, she leant one leg over the rocky edge, and then the other leg joined its pair and she soared. Feeling the rushing wind lift her and carry her downwards into the murky water below, Erza had never felt more like a fairy in her life. For years she had spent her days cowering in the dark, and now... now she flew.

Her body hit the film which would eventually be her end, the air her lungs had been clinging to disappearing in a short gasp and her fiery hair floating around her like a halo. Despite the crack in her heart and the surety of her own demise, the 15 year old turned her lips up into a smile. The burn in her lungs began to merge into the darkness around her vision, and as Erza Scarlet's body became the water, she couldn't help but think in wonder about how the guilt, the pain and the anguish simply melted away, and for the first time in forever she was free.


	3. Jellal and Erza (fluff and angst)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is seriously unbeta'd and kinda rubbish... but I just had to do it. I'm sorry for how bad it is, but I had fun writing it, so... yeah.

Jellal didn't believe in freedom.

When he was a child, cowering alone in the dark corners of the Tower of Heaven, frightened and left to die, he could see no escape. He overheard the elders talking about Heaven and salvation, and although he smiled and got excited along with Erza and Sho and all the other children, he didn't believe it. Not in his heart.

He knew that they could escape the murky hovel that they had been abandoned in, but he also felt certain that the pain and torment that they had endured would shadow them for the rest of their lives. And when the 'Spirit of Zeref' had spoken to him, he still didn't believe that they could be free. But resurrecting Zeref would be a start, and the sick promises the spirit was making filled a void within him that he hadn't even known was there.

Even after recovering his memories and realising the full extent of the pain and destruction he had caused, Jellal still couldn't believe in the concept of freedom, because he would never be free. He was locked in an eternal state of morbid guilt and sinful regret, never being able to look forward due to the pulling darkness of his past.

Being saved from the cage that the Magic Council had strewn him in by Crime Sorciere had been a start for Jellal, and he couldn't help but find a strange sense of comfort in the unlikely friendship that bonded him to Ultear and Meredy. He forgave them for the wrongs that they had committed partly because he didn't blame them (they all three could see now that master Hades had manipulated them, as did Brain, to reach their own goals), and it was also to do with how hypocritical it would have been for him to not grant them the purging of guilt that forgiveness and acceptance can give. But, for the most part, it was because he could see himself in them. The nightmares in their eyes, the stiffness in their steps, the reluctance in their laughs. It all showed the burden which the trio had to carry. The burden of their actions, the weight or regret on their very souls.

And when the news had reached him that the wizards of Fairy Tail had gone missing on Tenroujima Island, well, any semblance of hope had immediately left. Hope that, just maybe, Erza would find a future which was not tainted by her own nightmares. Because, although, Jellal found it impossible to believe in his own freedom, he prayed that his friends would no longer suffer because of his own misdeeds. Seeing Erza again after seven long years made it clear to him. He realised with a sick clarity that he wasn't the only one who who was trapped in the ephialtes of their past. And yet, he saw it. He saw the hope in her eyes, the wind in her hair and the freedom in her smile.

Freedom comes in many forms, and it was clear to Jellal that Erza had found her own in her comrades, in her guild. She would never break free from what had occurred all those years ago in the Tower, but she was still a fairy. And caged fairies can't fly.

That was why Jellal loved Erza Scarlet so much. She filled his lungs and his mind and his heart. He knew he would never be worthy of having that smile directed towards him, but he craved it nonetheless. It was selfish and impulsive, but the need to be around her was too strong. It tugged at his subconscious and haunted his dreams, betraying the nonchalant act he so had carefully crafted.

Jellal didn't believe freedom existed, but what he did believe in was Erza. He believed in her strength and her intelligence and her beauty. He believed that, with her, he could find happiness. Although he may never be free, he was sure he could find all that he was looking for by searching in her eyes. It wasn't freedom, but it was more than he would ever deserve.


	4. Mystogan (angst)

Mystogan sighed as the cool wind's soothing breath caressed his pale cheeks, the delicate skin of his eyelids fluttering shut at the refreshing feeling. Whenever the duties of being the king became too overwhelming, whenever his new life felt too much, he enjoyed climbing to the top of the tower and watch, proud, as the people of Edolas busied themselves with adjusting to their new lives. It wasn't a high tower- only around 25ft- but gave him a glorious view of he kingdom he was now in charge of. 

Sometimes, he felt guilty. He, King Jellal, had deceived all of his people before he had even begun to lead them. He had never wanted to lie to them- he'd even offered to give his life so that they would never have to know the truth of the story- but Natsu, stupid, impulsive, brilliant Natsu- had saved him from his own poor judgment and cynical mind. He knew that he owed Natsu, that the fiery boy with garish hair and a hot personality deserved all of his gratitude, but Mystogan had long ago come to terms with the fact that he would never be able to show his thanks to Natsu, or any other member of Fairy Tail. After all, he would never get the chance to see them again. 

When he was nine, Jellal had stumbled upon a trembling, frightened ball of snot and tears, who shyly identified itself as Wendy, Wendy Marvell. He had spent years wondering what became of that caring, tearful girl whom he had once thought of as his sister, and knowing that she had found the same family that had shown him kindness, the same guild that made him strong, filled his heart with so much joy he could never truly suppress it. Now she could bloom fully, without ever having someone leave her again. 

Mystogan jumped. His cloak fanned out behind him as he landed with an aching thump in the palace grounds. His ankle throbbed as it twisted slightly, but the king barely noticed. He was too lost in his own thoughts, which seemed to him to be as fleeting as the autumn leaves which danced around him. He considered walking, walking away and not turning back, just as he had done when he was a child. But he knew instantly what a selfish, impossible fantasy that was. He was an adult now, and he had no magic to rely on. What he did have, however, were responsibilities. They weighed him down and kept him grounded. His whole life had felt like a whirlwind, but now Mystogan finally had a place where he belonged, a place where he could be himself without constant worry that his identity could get him imprisoned, or hurt the ones around him. He loved Erza, and loved the guild, but the freedom which Edolas granted him was far too exhilarating for him to ignore. 

He sighed unhappily and reached behind him, gripping one of his staffs that he still carried on his back purely out of habit. It's not like they were any use now, anyway. His bandaged fingers (another habit, one he was yet to break) ran over the smooth wood, longing for the power it once held to return. Mystogan had never appreciated the magic he had been carefully developing for years until it no longer flowed through his veins, and he felt its loss every morning when he woke up, every time he spoke to his guards, every time he looked to the sky and remembered the life he had once had, like he was doing now. It was like bile in his mouth that couldn't be swallowed, and a broken bone that would never be put back in place. He felt wrong somehow, and he knew that he would never feel right again. Magic was a part of him, and losing it so suddenly was a shock to his entirety, even though he was more prepared than the citizens of this world, who still struggled adjusting to a 'normal' life. 

As the cool wind blew more harshly, and dry leaves crunched under heavy footing, Mystogan remembered how the mere mention of his previous guild's name sent a shiver of loss and resentment to ripple down his spine. Fairy Tail was his home. It was full of warmth and laughter that, although he could never be a part of it, comforted him all the same. Mystogan could never join in with the dazzling events Fairy Tail seemed to be frequently throwing, but the intoxicating excitement reached even himself, and he longed to be part of the proceedings, if only once. The damp prick of tears stung his tired eyes as the truth of what he had lost weighed on his heart. He wiped away the display of emotion before they could streak down his face. A king cannot cry. He cannot show weakness. 

King Jellal took one long, wistful glance at the rising sun and the freedom and adventures it promised, and turned his back to it. His cloak billowed in the birth of light as he walked away from the life he once had, with the laughter of his guild, his family, echoing painfully in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this, I really do. Mystogan was one of my favourite characters, and I ugly-sobbed when he left. This for him. He may no longer be with us, but he's forever in our hearts.


	5. Gray and Lyon (fluff and angst- memories)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyon falls ill and Gray looks after him... but not for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a gift for the wonderful Appreciatefairytail on tumblr (guess what, Lena... I FINALLY FINISHED IT)!

Gray leant down and placed the tray of food carefully on Lyon's lap. "Do you need anything else?" He asked casually, his attitude was passive, but his actions were gentle and caring, and there was definite concern shining in his eyes. 

"No." Lyon's voice was weak, and he didn't want to waste it on words spoken unnecessarily. 

"Okay, well I'll just..." Gray turned to leave, his hands ruffling through his dark hair as he turned his back on the sick man. The last time Gray had seen a fever this high was the during the outbreak of flu when he was a child. Cana had been sick for weeks, and Erza had taken it upon herself to nurse the card wizard back to health. The brunette still had nightmares to this day. 

"Gray?" He croaked, reaching out and circling his hand around Gray's wrist. 

Gray turned, his head tilting in curiosity. He was sure that he had cooked everything properly, and he had definitely left Lyon's medication on the tray, so what else would the white haired boy want? 

"Do you remember when I was ill? Back when we were children, I mean." Lyon's face was drained of colour, his lips were chapped, but the smile which blossomed on those cold lips was more sincere than any Gray had seen in weeks. Gray blushed slightly, and the cursed at himself for such an obvious display. He hated how such a little thing could effect him so strongly, but he had never been very good at controlling himself around Lyon. 

"Yeah, I remember that." Gray grinned widely. How could he forget? He had arrogantly challenged Lyon to a streaking competition in the middle of a blizzard. Snow blanketed the ground, and the wind was blowing so harshly the shack they lived in rattled, but Lyon had stubbornly accepted. 

They were young and juvenile, and no where near as resilient to the cold as their current selves. Lyon had grown ill that night, and frighteningly so. His body shook with poorly suppressed shivers, and the chill which invaded his body was from far more than the storm raging outside. Despite that, his body was sticky with sweat, and he was always 'too warm', regardless of his body temperature. 

"This is your fault, Gray!" Ur's voice had been deep and slow. It was the tone she always used when she was angry or disappointed, and Gray had heard it more times that he would care to admit. 

"I'm sorry." The boy had mumbled, his eyes tracing the ground as he hung his head in shame. 

"Sorry won't make Lyon better! Sorry won't retrieve the only clean pair of clothes you have from the mountainside! Sorry won't-" Her voice had risen, but she caught herself when she saw Gray flinch. The sigh which passed her lips was weary and exhausted, and yet still, she smiled. Kneeling, she had taken Gray's face between her hands and forced his gaze to meet hers.

"I've been quite lenient with you Gray, but that ends now. I understand you've been through a lot, but I can't allow your hot-headedness to cause harm to either Lyon or yourself." Despite her warm smile, the words she had spoken were cold. 

She reminded Gray of Mika, his mother, with her serious mannerisms and playful heart. That made the loss he still felt pulsate, and for a second he was afraid of throwing up. His mother... was dead. As was his father, and everyone else he had loved, hated, grown up with. He would never see them again, never laugh or argue or play with those people in his lifetime. Tears swelled in his dark eyes, but he forced them back down and he had reacted in the only way he knew how; lashing out. "What do you even care? We're not your children!" 

Ur had heard that line too many times for it to hurt, as both Lyon and Gray liked to use it whenever they were feeling overwhelmed by something they could not control. She couldn't stop them, nor could she easily convey how, despite having no blood relation, she still loved both boys as though they were her sons. Suddenly, the ice witch grinned. Gray immediately began to feel uneasy. "Seeing as this is your fault, I know precisely how to punish you!" With grace to rival that of a snow leopard, Ur rose onto her feet and walked to the window. Only when she felt Gray creep hesitantly behind her had she continued. "There's a job I need to take over in Boscow. It's a long trip, and will probably take me... 5 days? There and back. I'm going to leave you in charge whilst I'm gone. And that means in charge of nursing Lyon, as well." She turned to grin mischievously down at Gray, who had stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes."

"But I-"

"This is your mess, so you have to take responsibility for it." Ur chirped, and Gray cursed every plausible God in existence that he got stuck with this... witch! "I'll be leaving tonight, so you'd better start the preparations for dinner. Lyon needs soup, but make sure it's not too salty! He can become easily dehydrated in his current state." She continued to reel off instructions and tips whilst she mindlessly flitted around the room, grabbing whatever she may need for the unplanned trip. Meanwhile, Gray had stood there utterly dumbfounded, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

"You- you're serious?" He exclaimed, the full calamity of the situation hitting him with striking force.

"I am! It'll do you two good, a little bonding time." She smiled happily before making her way into the room where Lyon was resting.

Gray slumped on the floor, completely exhausted from such an eventful day. The room was still and silent without Ur present, and all Gray could hear was the wind battling outside, and the soft, reassuring murmurs Ur was speaking to Lyon. 

Ur had left shortly after, leaving a terrified Gray with the parting words of 'I promise I'll make this as quick as possible... don't worry, I'm sure everything will work out perfectly'.

That evening, Lyon's temperature had dropped even further. He curled himself up into a ball and shivered heartily, muttering hollow words about being 'absolutely fine' and being 'perfectly warm. Gray had already cooked him soup (but only because he himself was hungry, he had yelled at Lyon, who had incidentally teased him about being a 'good little housewife'), and had given him the necessary medication (Gray had hoped that, with that level of dosage, his elder pupil would pass out and stop the onslaught of remarks), and soon after, Lyon had fallen asleep.

Gray had stayed awake for much longer, anxiously hoping to see Ur come waltzing back through the door and confirm that all of this was some elaborate plan to teach Gray- and Lyon, to a lesser extent- the importance of family and comradery and looking after the people who are the closest to you. Gray let an exhausted sigh pass his stress bitten lips, and let his head fall against the wall he was leaning against. He glanced tiredly at the clock- 2:56am. What an ungodly hour to be awake, especially in the winter! The young wizard balled his hands into fists and rubbed them against his eyes, finally deciding that it was time to go to sleep. Evidently Ur wasn't coming home, at least not that night (or morning, as it were), and Gray saw little point in having two sick children greet her in her return...

Gray shuffled into the room he shared with Lyon and crashed noiselessly onto the bed. He tugged at his socks and pulled at his shirt until he was in comfortable sleeping attire. Before he climbed under the quilt and allowed his mind to finally shut off for the night (or morning, as it were), Gray took one more glance at the bed sitting adjacent to his own. 

The boy lying their shuddered, his eyes screwed shut and thin frame trembling with the chilly shocks overcoming him. The hairs on his arms and neck were rigid against the sick boy's pale body, and a thick sheen of sweat moistened his brow. Worried, Gray pressed the back of his hand against Lyon's forehead, mimicking the action he had seen both his mother and his teacher use countless times before. The skin under his hand felt cold, and not in the way it normally did. 

The thin pinkness of Gray's lower lip was chewed on anxiously as the young mage searched for a solution. Lyon was evidentially much colder than he had been when he went to sleep, but he already had all of the blankets in the house... Gray didn't know how to work the thermostat, and using a fire lacrima without Ur around was far too risky... what else could he do? There was one other option, Gray realised with a horrified pull of his lips. A primal source of heat, one that used no energy and needed no preparation. He climbed onto the bed alongside his fellow pupil and hesitated. Staring down at Lyon's furrowed brow and trembling lips, Gray deliberated his next action. 

Pros: He would be helping Lyon, Ur wouldn't get mad at him for not looking after the other boy, he would be able to get to sleep and stop worrying, Ur wouldn't be mad with him...

However, the cons were equally weighty. If he did this Lyon might be freaked out by him, and things would be awkward between them forever. Not that Gray particularly cared if the white haired boy never spoke to him again, but it could negatively impact his training, and he most definitely did not want that.

A deep puff of air left Gray's parted lips as he realised that he really had no choice; no matter how much Lyon aggravated him, no matter how much they argued, Gray could not sit back and watch another suffer when he knew in his heart that he had the power to do something about it. 

His fingers trembled as he reached around and grabbed the blanket from around Lyon. He slid down into the blanket, the warmth of the soft cotton immediately hugging his skin. Gray blew a tuft of hair out of his eyes using his mouth and rolled over, towards his sleeping friend. His arm hovered awkwardly over Lyon's waist before he finally relented and let it drop down gently. From the position he was in, Gray had no use for one of his arms was was constantly breathing in strands of snow-white hair, but Gray was startled by how peaceful he felt. His heart was beating at an erratic rate, but his eyes were still drooping with suppressed fatigue, and it wasn't long before he drifted to sleep... 

"Gray, I'm cold... Do you think maybe you could-" Lyon's smirking voice brought Gray back into the present time, and before the white haired mage had finished mocking events of the past, a pillow impacted harshly into the side of his face. Lyon looked up, stunned, to see Gray already facing away from him. His hands were balled up into fists, and the sharpness of his tone starkly contrasted the glowing pink tips of his ears. Lyon smirked. 

"Shut up! You bastard!" Gray huffed, stomping stormily to the door and slamming it as he exited. 

Lyon's juvenile laughter- which promptly dissolved into a fit of harsh coughing- filled the room. Once Lyon had calmed himself and his breath had returned to him, the door began to open hesitantly, it's hinges creaking at the lethargic pace they were moving at. Gray returned ladened with pile upon pile of soft, woollen blankets. He walked stiffly to the bed and dumped the blankets roughly where he estimated Lyon's feet to be. Still, he refused to meet the bewildered gaze of the elder pupil. 

"If you're cold then you need to wrap up warmer." Lyon had to strain to hear these bashful words, spoken in hardly a whisper. 

"Gray..." he mumbled, both astonished by and in awe of this gentle, nurturing side he had only seen once before. Now that they had acknowledged the true meaning behind their feelings towards one another, these endearing actions were even more special to both wizards. 

Gray turned to leave again, but the clarity of Lyon's words halted him before he had even taken a step. "I'd like it if you would hold me again."

"What the hell!" Gray exclaimed, his cheeks inflamed. His eyes narrowed in embarrassment and his tongue coiled in preparation to whip put a chaste remark. And then Lyon looked up, his squinty eyes soft and doughy in the warm light, his lips quirking in an unsure but content way. The white strands of hair lying unevenly on his head looked feathery, and Gray was barrelled with a sudden urge to just reach out and touch-

"I'm... serious." Lyon stated slowly, each syllable causing an uneven stutter of Gray's heart. 

"I know." Gray whispered, all bravado ceasing as what was truly important became ultimately clear; Lyon,and himself. Their past as students, their present as lovers, and their future together. He climbed onto the bed, keeping his eyes averted as his embarrassment flushed his cheeks a colour to rival Erza's hair. 

He lay on his back, one arm tucked under his head and the other arched over the pillow lying next to him. Lyon stared, shocked that his request had been carried out so complacently, but equally... not, at the same time. Gray acted distant and indifferent, but that was often used as a barrier to hide the emotions he truly felt. This case was no different. 

Lyon wheezed gruffly as he lowered his body into that cool embrace, those lean fingers curling around his shoulder to guide him down so that he was at a perfect angle. Gray kept Lyon propped on his chest so that his breathing remained as easy as possible, but also so that he could gain access to those white locks he had so desperately wanted to feel just moments ago.

As he carded his hands through Lyon's hair, the latter hummed in satisfied bliss. His throat was burning, his lungs hardly working, and his head was throbbing in at least six different areas, but he had found his childhood sweetheart in the most peculiar of ways, and they were happy... and that's all that really matters.


	6. Natsu and Lucy (fluff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a gift for the wonderful mslead on Tumblr, and came about due to the 'We're a Guild, We're a Family!' day! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy uwu

"Lucy, you home?" Natsu shrieked as he kicked the door open in excitement. He had once done this with far too much force, and the door had shattered upon impact. Now he spent much more time calculating his strength, and the door hit the wall with little more than a knock. It wasn't as though he was particularly bothered about the destruction he caused, but Lucy could be frankly terrifying when she allowed the sense of propriety she had been spoon fed along with her baby food to dissolve, and her inner Erza finally surfaced. Natsu shuddered at the nightmarish memory as he moved further into the apartment, searching further for his team mate and close friend.

Close friend.

That's what they were, Natsu knew for sure. He saw it in the sisterly way Lucy coddled him, and the proud comradery which glistened in her eyes when he won a particularly gruelling fight. She saw him as Natsu of Fairy Tail, a juvenile punk who doubled up as her partner in crime, and that knowledge sunk any hope he may have had that their relationship could progress, leaving heavy stones of disappointment to weigh in his stomach.

Natsu was in love with Lucy- had been for a long time, in fact- but it wasn't one thing about her which made him tumble into that inescapable abyss of tenderness and torment. He was in love with her fragile smiles, and her petite nose. He was in love with the gentle curve of her back, with the soft flesh of her thighs, and the childish bubbles in her laughter. She was his sun and his stars; she guided him and advised him, and provided a reliable constant that was so trustworthy and undoubtedly honest, that Natsu didn't understand how he couldn't fall in love with her, really. Lucy's warmth was that which rivalled fire, and if Lucy was a flame then Natsu was a moth. He was drawn to her, and craved her in greedy and possessive ways he didn't even know he could want a person. And it hurt, it hurt so much that he could be so completely in love with someone, could do nothing to douse the fire that had spread to him as well, and he knew that he had been scorched. Lucy had marked him, claimed him, changed him, and she didn't even realise.

It's true what they say; people who play with fire always end up burnt, and Natsu was pleased that Lucy had burnt him. A painful love is better than no love, after all, and if this searing pain was the only way that he could be with the person he loved, then the dragon slayer felt that was a reasonable price to pay. Natsu Dragneel was no stranger to afflictions, after all.

"I don't think she's here, Natsu." Happy provided helpfully after taking a scan of Lucy's home. Natsu had to agree, although it smelt strongly of the celestial wizard’s scent- a musky aroma consisting of lavender and bubblegum- she did not appear to be home. Natsu

concluded that she must have left recently, and shrugged. He flopped down casually onto the soft cushions of Lucy's sofa as he decided to wait for her arrival.

Gazing idly around the room, Natsu noticed the edge of a small, brown book peeking from behind Lucy’s large bookcase. The object had clearly been hidden, albeit not very successfully, and Natsu was honestly curious what the blonde would possibly wish to hide.

He walked cautiously over to the bookcase and bent to grab the foreign item. It felt weighty and alien in his nimble fingers, and Natsu frowned in confusion at the leather-bound cover. It was too large to be a journal or diary- what he had initially assumed it was- but was too small to be a scapbook or culinary book. So what could it possibly be?...

"What's that, Natsu?" Happy asked, sprouting wings from his furry blue back and hovering over his best friend's shoulder to suspiciously eye up the book.

"I... have no idea." He replied slowly, flipping the front cover and gazing at the contents. The pages were thick and a mellow shade of cream, and drawn expertly across the page were pencil scratchings which, under immediate inspection, Natsu recognised as Erza. It showed one of her rare moments without her armour. Her eyes were closed, her lips were smiling, and the shading on her face made it appear as though there was sunlight illuminating her quietly beautiful features. It was smudged and slightly indistinct, which made it obvious to Natsu that it had been done from memory, rather than from life.

He flicked through the sketchpad, noticing drawings of Levy reading a book, Cana drinking with Macao and Wakaba, Mirajane serving drinks to Gray and Loke at the bar. All of the images were well-crafted but unsure, as though the artist had been so disappointed with the product that they had almost quit half-way through their sketch.

As he thumbed the pulpy paper, one image caught his eye. It was the only coloured drawing in the whole pad, and the strokes were different, somehow; they were confident and bold, unlike the soft, smudged drawings Natsu had been so in awe of before. Lucy clearly knew her subject well, and Natsu was shocked to see why.

"Natsu... that's you!" Happy exclaimed excitedly as he realised the delicate tones of salmon pink and ashen grey formed his smiling face. It was a generic image of him, his eyes closed as his teeth protruded in a hearty grin. As Natsu scanned the smudged planes of his face, he was shocked by the skill shown in the scratchy lines of these drawings. They were clearly the product of hard work and natural talent, and Natsu was sure that they rivalled even Reedus' craft. He knew Lucy could write, but he had never heard her mention art before!

In the bottom corner of the page, four words were written. He would recognise that bubbly scrawl anywhere. Natsu's breathing became shallow, his mouth dried up until all he was swallowing were his own shocked noises.

'I love you, Natsu.'

The only words Lucy had written on the page, and possibly the only words that had ever mattered to the fire wizard. His mind became liquid as all thoughts melted to one. Lucy... loved... him? As in... him? Natsu... him? He was sure that this was some elaborate prank,

and waited with narrowed eyes for Gray and Gajeel to come bustling into the room, laughing at the shocked, gleeful expression painted so vulnerably across his features.

Sure enough, the door swung open and Natsu whirled around to punch the jokers square in the face, flames of vexation already dancing on his tanned skin. Instead of black hair and manly laughter, Natsu's irritated gaze was met with streaks of blonde and gold.

"Natsu, Happy, what the hell?" Lucy's shrill voice resonated through the room, and Natsu froze immediately. She looked stunned and ruffled and so undeniably beautiful, Natsu felt his breath catch in his throat again.

"Lucy..." He muttered, and all of the emotions he had so carefully supressed surged forward at once in an uncontrollably wind, and he found himself caught up in the gale striding across the room and confidently taking Lucy's face in one of his warm hands. Without meeting her shocked gaze, he firmly pressed their lips together. She tasted better than she smelt- more sweet and fragrant- and Natsu relished the way her taste settlesd on his lips.

Natsu pulled away to smile lovingly at the blonde wizard, and pressed her sketchpad lightly to her stomach. She flushed a shade of scarlet to rival Erza's hair, and began to stammer incoherently before Natsu silenced her with one sentence. "I love you, too."

She rushed at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and letting the book fall to the ground. Content murmurs tumbled from Lucy's plump lips as she breathed in the smell of Natsu from the protective circle of his arms. He soothed her hair lovingly, a hazy smile plastered on his lips as he grinned at Happy, who was smirking knowingly at the duo.

"They liiiiiike each other." He giggled, and Lucy moaned into Natsu's chest. The pink haired boy simply laughed at the childish comment, leaning down to press a lingering kiss on the top of Lucy's head.

"That's right, Happy. We definitely like each other."

And when the sun set that evening, Natsu hardly noticed its absence. Because he had his sun, and his stars, and everything that was warm in his life nestled happily in between his legs, and that burning heat was all he really needed.


	7. Gray and Natsu (fluff and implied smut)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received some one-shot requests from Tumblr, so I thought I would share...

Natsu had never believed in love at first sight, or true love, or any other of the romanticised jargon he had read about in fairy tales during his youth. He believed in love, of course, and he understood the importance of commitment and spending the rest of your life with that one person, but he couldn’t understand how something as weighty and cardinal as love could happen in a matter of a few hours, or even a couple days.

In Natsu’s own largely inexperienced opinion, love was an hourglass, and every second spent with your partner, every laugh shared and memory made, was a grain of sand. When one section of the glass was full and the object rotated, then you were in love. Because suddenly, you were defying gravity with chaste kisses and embarrassed smiles and you flew. Without that time growing with your significant other, Natsu couldn’t even begin to comprehend how to form the word ‘love’. And when he heard other people’s tongues roll the right and the word flitted from their lips, it sounded false to him. It sounded forced and fickle, and he never doubted his hearing.

To Natsu, it wasn’t just about how you loved, or how long it was for. Another important factor was who you chose as your mate. The person had to be someone you could rely on, someone who was emotionally and physically prepared to give and receive in equal measure. They had to be ready to pick you up when you fall and knock you down when the situation so calls, but more than anything they needed to be honest, and faithful and true to both your shared relationship, and themselves. So when Natsu walked into the guild one day and saw Gray sitting there doing nothing at all, his pulse raced. And he knew. It was obvious to him, because Gray was everything he thought a mate should be, despite not being the person the pink haired mage had expected. Gray was nothing Natsu was looking for, and yet everything he had ever hoped to find.

He was honest, almost brutally so, but he was never unkind. His strength matched Natsu’s own, and he was loyal beyond the duties a wizard normal held. More than that, Gray knew how to love. He had scars hidden behind that cool skin, and wounds which were still yet to heal, and his trust had been broken almost more times than his fragile heart. Despite that, he was more than willing to throw himself into the fire and give his everything for a person; Natsu was in awe of that.

When lips met and skin burned and bodies met in the most intimate way known to mankind, that was when Natsu knew his time was up. His hourglass had rotated, and he was so deep in love with this stupid, perverted, ice princess that he felt tears sting his eyes. Because he didn’t believe in love at first sight, or fate tying people together, but he did believe in his guild. He believed in Gray and his feelings for him, and more than anything he believed that they had a future together.

And Gray felt the exact same way.


	8. Sting and Rogue (fluff and minor angst)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another brief Tumblr prompt... this one was 'childhood friends AU' c:

Looking back, Rogue couldn’t figure out a way where things could have turned out differently. He could no longer see a plausible way that he  _couldn’t_ fall in love with Sting, because all of the events of their lives seemed to have lead to just that.

He could remember it well, sitting quietly in the playground, hiding in the shadows as he meekly watched all of the other children laughing and playing with one another. He was 6 years of age, and even he could comprehend all of the ways he was different from his peers. He could not speak to people easily, and he found it difficult to trust people at all.

He supposed that’s what happens when you’re father dies of an illness when you’re only young, leaving you orphaned and afraid in this bleak world.

Rogue’s eyes filled with tears as he saw Natsu and Gray- yet more damaged, lonely children- scuffling on the cracked concrete of the orphanage playground. He was so painfully aware of their friendship, and his lack of, that he felt it in his veins and chest and stomach. The isolation and melancholy filled his blood and coursed through his body, pumping though his system with every thump of his fragile heart. This feeling of utter helplessness- it was a part of him now. He could no longer differentiate where the toxic shadows ended and his own juvenile mind began, but Rogue didn’t think that was important; they were one in the same now, nonetheless.

He had lost all hope- had forgotten what hope is, really- and was just about to turn around and run away (the natural instinct of any child), when he felt the heat of the sun kiss blissful promises across the freckles on his nose, over the purple fatigue which resided under his scarlet eyes. Rogue turned, startled, only to be greeted with an unruly straggle of blonde hair, a toothy (or rather, tooth _less_ ) grin and muddy cheeks.

Sting had held his hand out expectantly and said, “Come play with us!”. As if Rogue could change his timid ways and become more brash and forward. As if it was that easy. As if Rogue could be that lucky.

Despite every reason- every planned out, thoughtful, _logical_  reason- why their friendship would never work out for either of them, Rogue had bashfully taken that warm hand into his own shaking one and allowed himself to be dragged along into the direct sunlight of day. Rogue worried that with his dark mannerisms he may eclipse that light and chase everyone away, but if he was the moon then Sting was most definitely the sun and the stars and everything light in Rogue’s life. They needed each other like the sea needs the wind and earth needs the rain; they were each other’s constant, the only logic keeping them rooted in a world filled with disorientation. It was only each other who could knock their own personal axis, only Sting and Rogue who could weather the storms of the other’s heart.

And on the days where Rogue shadowed all that was good in his life, and he was left as frenzied and alone as he was when Sting first found him, that same boy would come waltzing in with a snide comment and an easy smile, and Rogue knew for certain that the light Sting was surrounded by- the one he bathed Rogue in whenever they were together- was more than enough to block out the shadows which plagued his heart. And knowing that he could walk in the light, hand-in-hand with the only person who understood him, was all Rogue had ever really wanted.

 

 


	9. Gray and Lyon (fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a birthday Gift for the beautiful @appreciatefairytail on tumblr... go say hi to her, if you like! Or say hi to me @ice-bringer uwu

“What do you want for your birthday?” Gray tried to be casual with his question, keeping his eyes rooted firmly on the newspaper between his fingers and letting the muscles in his face relax in a vain attempt to keep the furrow from his brow from resurfacing.

His efforts were lost on Lyon, however, who could tell immediately that the question was not as nonchalant as it first appeared by taking one swift scan of Gray’s body. The taunt, white knuckles and twitch in his left eye betrayed his calm demeanor, and Lyon could hardly help the smile which filled out the pale curve of his lips.

“You.” Was the simply reply, and before the word had even breathed thoughts and questions into Gray’s mind, Lyon had surged forward to seal their lips in a lazy kiss. The question remained unanswered in the space between them, but when Lyon pulled back- with a needy Gray grumbling at the loss of contact- neither of them seemed to remember what had began this display of messy kisses and heated touches. But that was okay, because Lyon’s birthday was over a month away still, and Gray wasn’t worried.

Not yet, anyway.

* * *

“Lyon, what do you want me to get you for your birthday?” Gray didn’t even try to conceal his frustration as the question- and his cutlery- clattered across the kitchen table two weeks before Lyon’s special day.

The silver haired mage simply raised his eyebrows in response, standing up and carrying his plate over to the sink and running water to rinse it. As he wiped away the evidence of his morning meal, he mused, “I thought I already answered this question?”

Gray inclined his head inquisitively and frowned. The last time he had asked, it had led to slow kisses and quick touches  _and Lyon’s mouth wrapped deliciously around his co-_

He stopped the thoughts before he became too flustered and inevitably repeated what happened the last time he had asked; he couldn’t lose an answer again, not this close to the date.

“No, you never. You avoided the question.” Gray growled, his vexation growing with the impudent wizard.

“No, I’m fairly certain I answered.” Lyon had began to smile again, and never had Gray wanted to jump over a table and  _strangle_  someone so badly in his life.

“Please refresh my memory.” He gritted out. Lyon turned and placed the dish on the side. When his eyes met Gray’s they were cloudy and indecisive, and there was a sadness in them which Gray had not seen since… in a very long time. Lyon walked to the door and hesitated a moment, before looking over his shoulder and smiling.

“You.”

* * *

**“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”** The crowd roared. All of their friends had been invited to the party- some had even brought people that neither ice wizard were familiar with. But alcohol flowed and music pulsed and spirits ran high, so Gray hardly bothered with the odd stranger he saw dotted around his and Lyon’s apartment place.

As he entered the living room, Gray found Lyon with his elbow propped against the ‘feature wall’ (Lucy and Erza’s idea… they had insisted that every home _'must have one’_. Gray cringed at the memory.), leaning against it and talking animatedly to Yuka. The Fairy Tail wizard stopped for a second. If anyone had called him out on it, he would have laughed it off and corrected them, stating that he wasn’t  _staring_ , not at all. He was admiring; there was a clear difference between the two. Looking at Lyon with his gelled back hair and fitted black shirt which left  _far too much_  to the imagination (but also not enough for Gray to not need to… readjust… his pants whenever he caught a glimpse at the toned abs rippling powerfully underneath.  _I really am a hot mess_ , he thought to himself with a disgruntled sigh.), Gray noted that there really was a lot worth admiring.

“Gray!” The excited voice of his lover pulled Gray from his mental haze, and brought him back to the task in hand; Lyon’s birthday present.

“I have something for you.” Gray mumbled in embarrassment, and when Lyon leaned in for a kiss, Gray pushed him away gently by his chest. Hurt and confusion flashed over the grey haired wizard’s features, but before he could question the action Gray dropped to one knee and produced a box the colour of the sky at midnight.

“I asked what you wanted for your birthday, and you kept saying me. So, I was wondering, would you have me… forever?” Gray grinned crookedly as he flipped open the lid and revealed the content. He opted to not get a gemstone- material items were never something Lyon had been fond of- and what he chose instead fitted their relationship as well as the silver band would fit Lyon’s finger. It was a turquoise, acrylic ice gem sitting proudly on a band of silver. On the inside of the ring Gray had had the words _'Ice Make: Eternity’_  in a classy scrawl. He knew it was cliche and embarrassing, but so long as the ring remained on Lyon’s finger, the words were no longer awkward, but formed themselves into a promise instead. A promise of the future, and the lives they hoped to share with one another. Gray looked up hopefully into the eyes of his boyfriend.

“Y-yes!” Lyon beamed, his eyes filling with tears he would no doubt deny later. Gray had hardly noticed the silence that had fallen in the room, but when Lyon flung himself into his arms, and all of their friends- their  _family_ \- began cheering in congrats and approval, Gray could hardly help himself; he let his lips form a heady grin and began to cry as well.


	10. Sting and Rogue (angst and fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I posted this on tumblr. Enjoy!

Sting slammed the door, the wood cracking painfully loud against the frame. Rogue winced at the noise, but made no comment. He knew that when Sting worked himself up like this, it was better to say nothing than to try and calm him down.

The blond paced, his hands balled into the thin fabric of his trousers, his head turned down in anxious thought.

“Rogue…” He started, his eyes gleaming fear and anger when they searched for Rogue’s own scarlet eyes. 

“I’m okay.” Rogue repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. By now the words felt false and forced, and weighed heavier than any lie before they rolled off the tongue. He knew that Sting didn’t hear them, had been lulled into a fake sense of ease by them too many times to believe anything other than the truth they concealed.

Rogue did that a lot, pretended to be unharmed when really his injuries were deep and unpredictable. It wasn’t to become a martyr or to gain sympathy, Rogue just simply didn’t want to be a burden to the people he cared about, especially not Sting. He played down his damage for the same reason Sting played up his power; to ensure that the other felt completely secure in battle. 

Today was different. Rogue couldn’t act as though he was okay, because the scent of blood stained into his clothes, and their was a grimace in his face as his dislocated bones rubbed his flesh up in ways that made Rogue’s flesh crawl, but from the inside. 

The enemy had been strong, almost /too/ strong, for both boys to handle. There had been three wizards, all of whom had looked lax and inchoate, but their old, frail bodies had been an agar plate of magic energy. The more they fought, the further they got into battle, the more their bacterium of power divided and split, until they were overflowing from their confinement in hurtling balls of fire and searing lasers of darkness. 

Rogue had always assumed that no wizards could work better than Sting and himself, that no people could better the magic clockwork only years of friendship and power could create. They were flawless, utterly unbeatable in any match where two souls become one. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe they had become too confident, too sure of each other’s power. So when situations like this arose and one of them showed signs of weakness, it hit the other harder than any magic attack ever could. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Sting screamed. Rogue was shocked into quietness at the outburst and, judging by the way Sting’s eyes widened, he was surprised as well.

“Sting…” Rogue said around a particularly loud swallow.

“What do you think I would do if I lost you? How could I even cope if you weren’t here? How-” Sting choked on his words as he hurtled forward and flung himself into Rogue’s arms. The impact hurt, and Rogue felt movement inside his body that was foreign and painful, but he did not protest the contact.

In moments like this, when their bodies were pressed together in desperate isolation and feral hopelessness, Rogue felt a flicker of optimism that what Sting and himself had could flourish out from friendship and into something more passionate and intimate. It may be unrealistic and childish, but Rogue craved it nonetheless.

“I need you.” Sting said, face buried in Rogue’s shoulder. He glanced up and offered a watery smile.

“I love you.” As soon as the words had passed his lips, Sting began to fidget. Rogue’s chest tightened, his heart beating in an erratic, painful rhythm as he received the words he had always wanted to hear, but not in the correct context.

“I love you, too.” Rogue said with a tight smile. The words were not a lie, not by any means. However, Rogue knew that Sting did not comprehend the depth of how he meant them. Sting pulled out of Rogue’s arms, face knotting in frustration.

“No Rogue, you don’t understand-”

“Of course I do, you’re my best friend.” That was also true. The platonic love that had bled into romantic and sexual desire was still there for Rogue. He loved Sting for who he was and how he made Rogue feel, both of which Rogue had appreciated for much longer than his physical attraction had been acknowledged. 

Sting frowned, confliction mapped out in the tight creases of his face. His eyes were too intense for Rogue, and he turned his face away in embarrassment. With no warning, Sting’s body was pressing back against Rogue’s. He circled his arms carefully around Rogue’s bruised figure, tilting his head up so that their lips were a mere centimetre apart. 

Their breath mingled as Sting glanced into Rogue’s shocked face, looking for uncertainty and finding nothing but confusion. Rogue closed the gap between them, showing Sting that he did not oppose their proximity. The kiss was nothing more than a butterfly wing fluttering against flesh; gentle and hesitant and almost unbearably endearing. It lasted only seconds before Rogue pulled away, leaning his forehead against Sting’s.

If this meant what he thought it meant- what he hoped it meant- then all of the knots in his stomach and lead in his heart would have been in vain. How did both of them miss something so obvious? How have they lived so close to one another for so long without realising? Rogue didn’t voice his concerns aloud. Instead, he kissed Sting’s temple and drew him in closer.

“I told you, Sting, I understand. I understand because I love you.” Sting sighed in what Rogue assumed was relief at hearing confirmation of Rogue’s feelings.

“I know, Rogue. And I love you, too.”


	11. Freed and Laxus (fluff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this on my tumble (@ice-bringer). I hop you all enjoy!

Freed was terrible at anything ‘domestic’. He always spilt the cleaner over the floor when he tried to use it, and managed to tangle himself in the sheets of the bed whenever he attempted to make it.

Cooking he could do, to quite a high standard, if he did admit himself. However, cooking and baking were two entirely different ordeals. One Freed could execute successfully, whilst the other… not so much.

He was learning, was a clarity that both startled and embarrassed him, that baking was hard, and it wasn’t something that came naturally to him. Freed had flower over his face, making his nose twitch with idle irritation, and there was treacle in his hair. How that had happened, Freed didn’t know. Getting that damned sticky stuff off of the spoon had been such a feat, it didn’t surprise him that he was now covered in it.

It also didn’t amuse him, either. Unlike Laxus, who was looking at him with a wide grin and an arched eyebrow. 

“You’d make a terrible housewife, Freed.” He mused, lifting his fingers and wiping a drop of frosting off of Freed’s cheek and putting the sweet substance into his mouth.

“Then maybe we shouldn’t get married.” Freed huffed.

“Maybe we should.” Every trace of humour was gone from Laxus’ face, and he stared at Freed with an intensity that startled both of them. Freed was speechless, wide-eyed and gaping as he tried to assess the seriousness of the situation. Before he had time to think further on it, he was brought firmly into the strong hold of Laxus’ arms. Laxus trailed his hands languidly over Freed’s back, lips huffing soothing breaths into Freed’s soft green hair. It was into that hair that he whispered a small:

“Marry me?”

Tears were already brimming in Freed’s eyes, and his emotions meant that he could not communicate his feelings accurately. Instead, he leant up and pressed his lips firmly against the underside of Laxus’ jaw. The answer was received coherently, because Laxus grunted an illiterate sound of joy before kissing Freed with such an ardent that made their future seemed like a very real, very close probability.


	12. Zeref and Mavis (angst and fluff... but mostly angst)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for tumblr and now everyone hates me

When Zeref kissed Mavis, he knew it was the end. Or the beginning, or something else which was equally as strange and frightening and foreign.

Mavis felt like home, but not in a maddeningly lyrical sense. Her arms were still warm with the same tenderness as the mother Zeref could barely remember, her eyes shone with the same passion as the brother who had forgotten him.

No curse could change Mavis, because to Zeref she was already a walking contradiction. Her laughter was musical, and yet her eyes were brimming with tears. Her voice was a fearless clarity between them, but her lips still trembled where they slotted against his own.

And he was so lost, and found, and utterly bewildered. How could someone who understood him so much, mess him up like this? How could a soul so beautiful know this much pain? The questions were torn from his brief moment of lucidity, and Zeref pondered them with such an intensity that it startled even himself.

Whether the curse could be broken or not, Zeref found himself unable to care. For this small pocket in time, as fragile and fleeting as a wing of a fairy, nothing mattered to him. Nothing except Mavis, whose fingers traced promises down Zeref’s spine, and whose breath filled his lungs with hope and his heart with a love so pure, Zeref was surprised he hadn’t tainted it with his darkness.

Zeref realised something then. Being together with Mavis for eternity was not a curse; it was a gift. And finally, after hundreds of years of death and misery, Zeref had found someone to live for.

His eyes snapped open, tears falling anew in a frightful outburst, clutching Mavis to his chest in a desperate, burning need to hold, nurture and protect her. But he was too late.

Before their lips had parted, Zeref knew that Mavis was already dead.


	13. Zeref and Mavis (angst)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt "I thought you were dead".

The cold, winter wind whipped a frenzy that threw Mavis’ hair into disarray. Through the straggle of clotted blonde curls, Mavis saw that he was looking at her, too.

“Zeref…” She started, taking one hesitant step towards the boy in question. He was perfectly still despite the wind which raged against him, and tears already fell from his wide, expressionless eyes. This was a brief moment of lucidity for him, and Mavis wanted to make the most of it whilst it lasted. She walked further this time, almost closing the gap between them. When she was only two more steps away, Zeref moved himself back.

“I thought you were dead- you  _died_ , Mavis. I killed you.” Zeref’s breaths came in ragged pants as he desperately clutched the side of his head. Memories of his only love and her demise haunted him whenever his mind was in perfect order, but now he was seeing her as well… he truly must be insane.

“I am dead, Zeref.” Her voice was soft and comforting, her small hands reaching forward to tentatively rest on Zeref’s neck. “But I’m here now… I’m here…” The look of utter disbelief on Zeref’s face caused her to repeat the notion. 

When he accepted that it was Mavis standing before him, he threw himself forward. She accepted him into her arms and held him close, his sobbing tremors causing the entirety of his body to jolt and hiccup at odd angles.

Mavis rubbed circles into the small of his clothed back, whilst he clung to her in selfish desperation. Suddenly, Zeref pulled back, taking Mavis’ head between his hands and resting their noses together, eyes at the same level.

“I can’t believe you’re… I can’t believe I…” He grinned a toothly smile, and Mavis warmed at the flicker of the person Zeref was before the curse hit and his brother died. She reached up to cover one of his hands with her own, closing her eyes and smiling herself.

“It’s okay-”

“No! I killed you! Mavis, you’re dead because of me!” Zeref yelled as all of his guilt caused the former happiness he felt to smash, like a rock would a mirror. He began sobbing earnestly again, dropping his head so that Mavis couldn’t see. She felt it though, felt the warmth of his tears and the sincere brokenness laced within his voice. When he spoke again, his voice was nothing more than a coarse whisper.

“Mavis- I… I’m so sorry…” His body shook under the force of his emotions. Mavis stroked his hair in short motions. Despite her reservations and resentments. Despite her loving and comforting, and her adamant chanting of ‘ _I will not do this’,_ Mavis closed her eyes and began crying silently as well.

“I know Zeref, and it’s okay. It’s okay because I love you… can you hear me, Zeref? I love you, and it’s okay… it’s okay…”


	14. Natsu and Gray (angst... so much angst...)

When they arrived, it was raining. Natsu wasn’t sure why that mattered to him, maybe it was the stormy blue of Gray’s eyes which leaked it’s own kind of wetness, or maybe it was how the rain felt as though the sky was crying, too. As if it too felt a crippling kind of remorse when it stared at the three graves which were barely sheltered by a canopy of ice Gray had created for them all.

Natsu stood slightly behind Gray as he read the names, eyes lidded with his own sadness. 

_Mika Fullbuster. Silver Fullbuster. Ur Milkovich._

When Natsu looked at Gray’s naked back, he saw the shake of the shoulders and the head hung in grief, and felt rather than saw Gray’s tears. He took one step forward, hand outstretched and mouth open. Natsu’s throat closed at the last moment, and instead of speech he gulped loudly. 

“This is Natsu.” Gray’s voice was steady with forced cheeriness as he directed his words towards his parent’s. Gray turned to smile at Natsu, who closed the gap between them and took his place at Gray’s side. Natsu let his fingers idly rest on the edge of Gray’s arm, but didn’t initiate any further contact. He had to show some self control; he was meeting his boyfriend’s parents, after all.

“You met him once before, dad, do you remember? I think you tried to kill him, actually…” Gray grinned at this, glancing down at Natsu’s hand long enough to twine their fingers together, and then focusing his attention back on the graves.

“That’s okay though, I’ve tried it a few times myself.” Both boys laughed at that, squeezing their fingers in a silent display of affection.

“I know that Mother and Ur never did meet him, so I wanted to introduce you all. I can’t say that I’m looking for your consent or blessing or whatever, because frankly that wouldn’t matter to me now. The truth is, I love him. He’s my boyfriend, and I’m in love with him.” Gray’s breath was shaking by the end of his speech, and he had to close his mouth before he was further overwhelmed. Natsu watched Gray’s emotions as they darkened his features, and took one step forward, his grip on Gray’s hand tightening.

“I’m Natsu! It’s great to meet you all! Gray is being an idiot- as usual- so I just wanted to say this: I am looking for your blessing. Gray is important to all of here, and I wouldn’t want to take him from any of you without your permission- I mean-” Natsu growled in frustration as he failed to communicate his feelings appropriately. He looked at Silver’s name, whose grave was in the middle, and spoke his words clearly.

“I love Gray. He’s my mate, and as a dragon slayer I don’t say that lightly. I’m serious about him, and about us, so I hope you can be as happy for us as he makes me… Although I do want to punch him in he face sometimes.” He added at the end, a smile stretching his innocently aloof features into something more handsome.

Gray was crying silently behind Natsu, body shuddering under the weight of emotions he fought so hard to suppress. When Natsu came to stand next to him again. Gray gave Natsu a quick kiss on the cheek. The rain stopped pouring and both boys turned in shock.

The sun shone through the clouds which still filled up the sky, but that single ray fell directly on Mika’s name. Gray sobbed louder, arm hooking around Natsu’s so that he could press his body into Natsu’s back.

“Thank you, mama.” He choked out, grief tucked into the creases of his smile when he realised how much he still missed his mother.

The childish language shocked Natsu, and he found tears burning a doleful kind of fire in his eyes. Hands still joined together, Gray and Natsu turned and walked away from the graves, the ice shelter Gray had created shattered behind them.

The sun still shone for hours after they left, and the smiles which Gray and Natsu had lasted twice as long.


End file.
